Emberwood if he's a king, he's a priest and god too
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and i know how to work the spells and charms in it
i know them all
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Ooc — ebony
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#1
Trade 
today merrick called for @Avicus and for @Ashlar. he meant to know the latter; he wished to spend time with the former. and he wished to make of them allies where perhaps the red-girl did not. devout as his child might be, he did not want her to live as her pale aunt did: between this world and the next.
he had found a coyote den in the roots of a tangled tree within a forest that would burn with red hues. merrick circled it with a roughened chuff, glancing to the pair.
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Ooc — Starrlight
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#2
It was a special occasion, when Merrick called!!!  Ashlar was buoyed by both nerves and excitement and let them carry him with haste to where the king waited.  He did not know what he might be asked to do, but whatever it was, he knew that he would do his best.

Ursus had become a quiet family to the boy, not as close as his own mother and father, but near as dear to his heart.  His quiet kinship with the quiet girl was a part of that and it delighted him that she was called too.  Tests were better alongside a friend, even if he knew she would perform better.  She deserved all of the praise of skill hard earned and he admired her greatly for it, just as he did all of the others here.  They held a strength that perhaps, one day, he'd share in.  If he only worked hard enough.

Ashlar spotted Merrick beyond the borders and yipped a cheerful greeting.  He danced slightly, submissively, with excitement, but then forced himself to still.  He did not want to miss why he was here! Or what was needed of him.  At first he did not notice the den, he was so excited, and instead waited out of habit for instructions.
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Ooc — mercury
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#3
today, she leaves the confines of Bearclaw on assignment from Merrick, who calls from afar.

strange pair, she thinks upon meeting her father's summons. she would expect to be called alongside her mother or brother, especially if it is an expedition that requires physical skill. instead, it is the singer, the soft boy, Ashlar, who is to be her partner today. she gives him a nod, then looks to her father.

and then looks beyond him, nostrils flaring at the acrid stench of. . .oh, what is that? it reeks like fox, but not quite; it's different.

different and recent, too. a threat not too far from the valley. foxes are thieves; they take from caches for themselves and their own young, and that will not do. the weather is getting warmer, but winter still clings to the land. prey is still hidden away within their burrows. food is scarce.

Avicus returns her gaze to Merrick, silently anticipating his next command while ever-conscious of the presence of Ashlar alongside her.
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
this is my book
and i know how to work the spells and charms in it
i know them all
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Ooc — ebony
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#4
bit by bit they showed their intentions to him. avicus, calmed and resplendent; ashlar excited and churning with delight. quite an unlikely meet, and yet he reveled in this. the dark beautiful boy, clay beneath the budding claws of his red-girl.
aventus had taken so swiftly to the leadership that merrick found himself wishing to give the crimson sister something with which to occupy her time to that end. teeth glinted; he let out his breath, tipping amused muzzle toward avicus before focusing single eye upon ashlar.
"sooner or later, conflict always finds its way to ursus. you've seen it, perhaps," merrick breathed in amusement. "to that end, we must always be prepared for bloodshed. what better way than to practice?"
knowingness meaning to spear the jubilant boy. bear-witch knew what it was to be a hunter in ursus. did ashlar, yet?
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#5
Ashlar greeted his friend with a happy wave and a bend of his forelegs, but he didn't press into her space. She seemed focused and he was reminded that this might be some kind of test. A nervous giddiness filled him, catching him up.

It came crashing about him, scattering, when Merrick spoke and revealed what the purpose of their meeting was. Ashlar's smile immediately faded and was replaced by reluctance. He wanted so badly to impress them, but he had tried and hated the lessons the other man tried to impart.

Would he have to fight Avicus? He did not want to hurt her, did not want to even try, and he balked as his tail tucked. He looked from one to the other, hesitant, no longer smiling. But he did not leave. He knew that no matter what this test might be, he would need to at least try his best.
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Ooc — mercury
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#6
Avicus understands. she catches a glance of Ashlar's nervous face—such stark contrast to the gleeful bloodlust that plays upon her father's countenance. she does not know that his nerves come on account of worrying over fighting her. she does not even think of it. why bring them all the way out here for a spar? the den must be the focus, not wolf-to-wolf combat.

so for her part, she is silent, determined. she knows the game is afoot. she strides toward the den and begins to sniff around the entrance, poking her head in boldly. . .

but only her head. she knows that on the creature's home turf, a fight within its den will be disastrous for her, even if backup is waiting in the wings.

it seems, however, that the den is unoccupied—for now. she retreats and scents along its edge, finding a recent trail leading outward, into the thicket of the Emberwood. not here, Avicus says, staring ahead, then looking back at the Ursus pair. her chin dips, pointing the way. there.

her eyes fix upon Merrick in question. fox? she asks, then shakes her head. what? her gaze shifts to Ashlar, wondering if the singer knows.
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
this is my book
and i know how to work the spells and charms in it
i know them all
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Ooc — ebony
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#7
merrick enjoyed nothing more than the transformation of light into darkness, and so the way that ashlar's jubilance flagged pleased him greatly. 
"coyote," he told the pair; the creature that lurked in him. in her, in a small way. in tadec. with each of the beasts killed, the bearking felt redemption grow closer for him
but this was not upon the forefront of his mind. it was ashlar's ability to kill, to take a life from something similar to his own flesh.
nodding toward the red huntress, he motioned the boy with him, prowling toward the right as he felt avicus might see the gesture and know to trap the animal between them.
into the darkened shadows. he followed the path indicated by his red-girl.
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#8
Their clarifications had relief warring with the anxiety buried in his core, iced and clenched. This test was different. The boy could feel it in the glint of Merrick's smile, in the way Avicus ignored him in favor of the hunt. They were going to spill blood and expected him to do so as well.

He quailed at the thought. He'd known coyotes, spoken with and enjoyed them. This was no intruder! So why did they hunt it rather than leave it be?

The question screamed in his mind but was pressured into the silent spaces, echoing soundlessly. He felt he might be sick.

Pinioned, Ashlar could only follow. His heart hammered and he hoped, fervently, that the coyote was long gone. Too far for them to follow, too far for them to find and fight. He was certain he'd do nothing but disappoint, thrown into a true battle when he'd not even won a spar.
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Ooc — mercury
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#9
coyote, she repeats, then turns and begins to creep furtively up the trail, deeper into the trees. coyote, a kind of fox, or so it seems by scent. a canid like themselves—at least somewhat. she looks for signs: fresh dung, or tufts of fur left behind, snagged on a jutting branch.

the smell leads them on and on, until Avicus is panting slightly from exertion, having found not much. her tiredness is making her clumsy; she stumbles upon twigs and stones and her pawsteps grow louder.

and then—

a burst of dead leaves, a whining snarl and a whirlwind of gray-brown. the coyote is startled by their appearance, itself stalking a nearby squirrel. they nearly collide, the two of them—god, it had camouflaged itself so well!—and then Avicus lunges for its scruff, hoping to grasp the creature before it gets away.

but, if it does, Merrick and Ashlar are waiting in the wings. she just hopes the singer is of better help today than he has been on other hunts. . .
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
this is my book
and i know how to work the spells and charms in it
i know them all
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Ooc — ebony
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#10
there it was, something for a moment resistant in ashlar. ah. so the glay did not wish to be molded to the potter's wheel.
well. there was little room for gentle hearts in ursus. merrick sought the cooperation of one's nature with that of their packland. eventually a fight would find them again, and in that instance, he must know that ashlar would not flee.
the path wore on. merrick looked over as avicus caused noise to echo through the short area, and then a flash of pelt; her own crimson curled malevolently close.
he too lunged for the animal, jaws closing on flesh and fur, but it would require the clamp of the soft boy's teeth as well to subdue the creature.
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#11
Ashlar wanted to live up to what they needed more than anything. Avicus was so strong, and Merrick was so fierce. Ashlar was neither. He had never before been bothered by this, but now... for the first time, Ashlar felt the sinking sensation of self-doubt.

He froze. Father and daughter surged forward, almost as one, to try and pin the creature. But Ashlar felt rigid, and time passed in slow motion as his heart thundered.

The boy stared in panic. He had never before attacked another creature, not that was not prey, with intent to harm. His body would not move.
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Ooc — mercury
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#12
it is a fierce battle between coyote and ruddy wolf, the two a whirlwind of brown-red fur. then Merrick joins in, and the tide begins to turn in their favor. now all they need is Ashlar—

she catches sight of him, standing in place, looking wide-eyed at the melee. fight! she snaps at her friend between blows from their quarry. she hopes to goad him on as she had karst, spur the kind singer to action. 

he can sing all the songs he likes, but Ursus demands blood, and Ursus will have it today.

Avicus feels teeth on her shoulder and yelps, feeling fur and flesh alike tear away with the coyote's panicked jaws. now spattering blood, she bears down upon the creature with a savage battle cry, losing herself, forgetting both her father and the onlooker in her fury.
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
this is my book
and i know how to work the spells and charms in it
i know them all
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Ooc — ebony
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#13
the little bard, standing worthlessly —
the beast scraped avicus with its vile teeth and merrick felt rage surge inside him. his own jaws twisted harder, tail revolving wildly to keep his balance — ah — the bearking was suffused with wrath, and for the sin of harming his red-girl, he tore muscle in great gouts of scarlet, pausing only to give ashlar a stony look.
he must move; the bruin-choice in ursus must know that all their wolves would come to echo war if they were pressed to it.
mouth a crimson smear; shadow and scarlet bringing death.
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#14
He rolled reallllll low, this should be fun <3

He couldn't. He saw the coyote tear at his friend and his panic only grew. He should want to defend her, he should want to help, but he was not able to move. There was no iron in him, no will to hurt, no desire for blood. Just pure fear and a yawning, ever-growing depth of shame. It was the latter that finally broke him, and with a sob he spun and fled. Not towards the coyote, but away... tearing off into the growth at their back.

Over the pounding of his heart, he could only hear a ringing in his ears.

He'd let them down and he did not know what would happen to him because of it. Would they make him leave? Ashlar did not pull to a shuddering stop until he was far removed, and his trembling legs collapsed as he sobbed into the soil at his feet. If they did, he would deserve it. He did not know why they chose to fight, but they had. That should have been enough.
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Ooc — mercury
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#15
she is furious and frustrated with Ashlar; her opinion of him sinks low, low, almost to that of Karst's status in her mind—and even he had redeemed himself somewhat by fighting back the other day. but the singer does nothing, even when commanded.

and by his leader, his better, to boot!

the coyote is dying. she sees the light slipping from its gaze, and loosens her grip on the blood-matted dusty-brown pelt, and the body starts to ease toward the ground. Avicus takes a step back, then another. she looks at her father.

your kill, she says mildly, as if forking over the last bit of dessert at a meal. and then sits, watching, losing herself in Merrick's fervent violence rather than dwelling on her friend's cowardice.
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
this is my book
and i know how to work the spells and charms in it
i know them all
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Ooc — ebony
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#16
your kill
merrick worried the corpse only a moment longer before he rounded upon ashlar, jaws dripping. "in ursus," came the terrible control of his rasped voice, "you may be asked to kill. and you may be asked to prove it is something you are able to do."
jerking his head toward the cooling corpse. "coyotes steal. they take"
and what did tadec take?
he did not take he did not give he no longer exists
"— but more than that, you have not showed me how your teeth are used."
winnowing down toward ashlar with a cold stare and the disapproval blanketed between them.
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#17
Ashlar hadn't expected to escape unchallenged and he was not wrong, for soon enough Merrick appeared in a fury above him. He cringed into the dirt where he cowered, did not attempt to rise. The fight had never even entered him in the first place; none of it was present now, not even a flicker. Just shame and a burning confusion, dread and a failure to comprehend.

He could not look at the leader or he would lose any ability to form words, he knew. The shame and despair of it would engulf him completely. He did not think that any excuse would help, for he'd run when ordered otherwise. But he did not understand and, once, the bear king had been kind to him.

Maybe there was a reason. Maybe there was something he did not know, a secret to where they found the instinct that drove them.

I've known th..them. They w...were'nt.... on your land. This wasn't... he trailed off, because all he would say seemed as presumptuous as saying 'our land' had seemed. Wasn't right? Wasn't needed?

His teeth had never seen use, never needed to. Always words had served him, songs and talk making strangers into friends and carrying him through lands. He was sick at the memory of the blood, the way the coyote had cried with pain, fought in turn, wounded Avicus. To defend her should have been enough, but it hadn't been. So he was not enough.
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Ooc — mercury
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#18
while Merrick berates, while Ashlar snivels, Avicus gazes down at the now-still coyote. cranes her neck to nose at her shoulder, wincing at the sting of tongue against torn flesh. she leaves it for now, knowing more contact will only aggravate the wound further. returns her eyes to the coyote.

moves in a semi-circle, ears only half-tilted toward the sound of her father's lecture. she squats, sending a steady stream of urine to splash against the corpse's forepaws.

a warning, then. here be wolves. coyotes beware.

and she wants no part of whatever Merrick has planned for Ashlar. she turns her attention to other sounds in the forest, promising still more game today. she has more than proven herself; she hopes the singer can find courage before it is too late.
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
this is my book
and i know how to work the spells and charms in it
i know them all
1,610 Posts
Ooc — ebony
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#19
"do you know the nature of a coyote? it is to take. it is to thieve. it is to give nothing, answer to no higher power, serve no god. what right have they to walk in our land? to walk near it? who commands them? who commands us, ashlar? who gave us a place in this valley? was in the god of coyotes? or was in the god of bears, who walk in ursus and live among us? you see them as worthy, worthy in the way that we are. but they are not. they are inferior beings. open your eyes, finally, at last, ashlar. listen to the words of those in ursus. we are here to hold what the bears have given us. and we are to serve them with blood. you decide if it will be theirs, or your own. we have made our choice."
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#20
Ashlar didn't move, didn't lift his gaze or look at Merrick. He was pure submission and guilt, pressed to the dirt, heart racing as the words rushed in a torrent past. Who commands?

Ashlar wanted to believe in the bear, wanted to please them. But as Merrick spoke, Ashlar felt a small despair flower because he recognized, for the first time, what was being said. You decide.

It had to be his. One day maybe it would be, if the bear truly required everyone choose. Ashlar knew himself well enough that if it came down to it, that was the choice he'd make. He was too much a coward to harm another that he might not be. Sorry. His ears flattened more, despairing.
this is my book
and i know how to work the spells and charms in it
i know them all
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Ooc — ebony
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#21
last from me! <3

despair. no backbone. merrick wanted to chase ashlar away at once.
but he did not, only stood looking down at the shirking boy.
"arielle means to be our healer."
voice quiet, contemplative.
"if you will not fight then you will learn medicine."
it was not a request.
merrick turned upon his heel, laying the burn of his single eye on ashlar a last moment before he stepped to avicus' side, prepared to allow her to lead them off if she chose.
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#22
He could not argue as Merrick laid his orders forth, but something squeezed tight within Ashlar as he intoned what he was to become. A cracking of his worth, and a very unfamiliar feeling, one that scared him into silence as Merrick stepped away.

Anger.

He felt it rise up unbidden and sour within his stomach and closed his eyes, but the feeling remained, lurking with burning sights locked on the bear king's unseen, retreating form. Maybe he is the one who doesn't understand. This frightened Ashlar as much as it soothed him, and for a while still he remained as he was, breathing the earthy scent of the ground beneath him.

Eventually the anger faded, but it did not disappear entirely.